Have you noticed that a painting consists of stains and lines? Did you notice how significant the line is? Even if it is subtle, it is significant.
Sometimes it serves as a skeleton for the whole composition, sometimes it adds interest only when viewed closely, but in any case, it is powerful.
When I first started to paint, it was hard for me to make a line. Somehow stains flowed more easily to me. Maybe because they can be applied more easily. A line is perceived by me as something decisive. As if to create a line, more courage is needed. To a large extent I still feel the same way today, but somehow today it comes easier to me.
How did it happen? I insisted. I didn't give up on myself. After all, I could easily flow with it and paint without lines. No one said there must be a line.
But it doesn't work that way for me. I believe that when something interests me but is difficult - this is not a reason to give it up but the opposite.
And it worked. Again and again, I made lines. On draft papers, on cardboard, and later also on canvases. I drew lines using charcoal, pencil, pastels and thin brushes dipped in acrylic paints or inks. At the beginning and at the end of the painting.
The truth is that it worked so well for me that today lines really help me, more than once, to get out of a stuck situation. I create a line and it serves as a way for me to continue.
Just like Harold and the purple crayon. remember?